


don't call it love

by ShippingEverything



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: (or not so much "unrequited"; its more like "aggressively suppressed"), Alcohol, Angst, Anna is a lesbian, Bi Melchior, Cheating, Closeted Character, Emotions, Filipino Otto, Gay Otto, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Secret Relationship, They're not good people and they're not good for each other but they're gonna do this anyway, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, also everyone but melchior is a person of color, boys being mean to one another, dub con elements because there's a lot of drunk hooking up, oh wait anna is also white but besides them everyones a poc, someone needs to stop these boys, thats barely apparent the the fic but i needed to say it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-28 07:31:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7630810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingEverything/pseuds/ShippingEverything
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Are you happy?” Melchior asks. </i>I could make you happy<i>, Melchior doesn’t say.</i><br/><br/>or: Melchior Gabor and Otto Lammermeier make horrible choices throughout the years</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't call it love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [intertwiningwords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intertwiningwords/gifts).



> so zoe said something about a bare a pop opera au for melchiotto and i didnt exactly want to write that but i did want to write _something_ like it, and then was talking to jessica last night and basically  
>  me: *shares sad melchiotto au*  
> jessica: LET MELCHIOR AND OTTO BE HAPPY  
> me: im gonna write a fic  
> jessica: JFDJKGLA DONT DO THIS  
> me: lmao
> 
> so, now youre all # blessed with yet another melchiotto from me, melchiotto queen lydia. this is the longest thing ive written in a _really_ long time, and im actually pretty proud of it? too bad barely anyone is gonna read it bc its my weird rarepair that no one cares about :/
> 
> enjoy!

I.

Melchior Gabor is fifteen years old and at his first big party. They’re playing a spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven fusion, and it’s his turn. So far, he’s got to kiss this super pretty junior girl, and he’s excited to spin.

He grabs the bottle, twists his wrist, and lets go. The bottle spins, dizzying in its movement, and Melchior squeezes his eyes shut. He’s really, _really_ excited. He can’t hear the bottle slow to a stop--of course not, it’s so _loud_ with the house full of teens and the booming music and the sound of chatter and cheers--but he hears the assembled crowd’s reaction. He opens his eyes and follows the neck of the bottle to see a terrified looking Otto Lammermeier looking back at him.

“But we’re both boys!” Otto says.

“You weren’t complaining when Gia and Patty were chosen!” One of the seniors responds, dragging Otto to his feet. Someone grabs Melchior’s shoulders as well, but Melchior goes willingly. They’re led down a hall to a coat closet, barely big enough for two people. “Besides, you don't have to _do_ anything!”

The door closes.

Nothing happens.

Melchior takes a deep breath.

“I’m not gay,” Otto says in a rush before Melchior can speak. “I- I don’t do _things_ with other guys.”

“Okay,” Melchior says.

“Like? I didn’t even want to play this game. But Georg was playing and he didn’t want to go over alone, and- yeah.”

“Okay,” Melchior says again. There’s barely any light, but Otto is close enough that Melchior can see each of his eyelashes as Otto looks resolutely down at the ground. Otto and Melchior aren’t really _friends_ , they float on the outside of each other’s friendship bubbles--close enough that Melchior would say that he _knows_ Otto, but never that they were friends. Otto’s almond shaped eyes flick up to meet Melchior’s for barely a second before going back to the ground.

“Sorry. This is just, really weird for me.”

“Why?”  
“Because you’re, _you know_.”

“Gay?” Melchior asks, his eyebrows furrowed. Otto flinches. “ _God_ , Otto, I’m _bi_ , not a super predator.”

Otto takes as much of a step back as he can, which still leaves them very close, “Well, _sorry_! I don’t know anyone else who’s gay in real life!”

“You’re friends with Ernst, aren’t you?”

“Yeah- What?” Otto says, meeting Melchior’s eye and holding it, his own eyes wide and his mouth fallen open in shocked _O_.

 _Fuck_ , Melchior thinks, because just about everyone _knows_ that Ernst Robel is gay, but _he’s not actually out yet_. “Fuck, pretend I didn’t say that.”

“ _What_? No! I can’t just pretend you didn’t say my _friend_ was gay!” Otto says, more panicked than anything else, “Ernst has stayed over at my house, god, what if he’s-”

“Can you stop being a homophobic dickbag for a _second_?” Melchior finally snaps, taking an involuntary step forward. Otto stumbles back, hitting the wall hard. “Jesus, gay people are people too, and I _assure_ you, you’re not Ernst’s type _or_ mine.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Otto asks, high and offended. Melchior scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Do you want me to try and kiss you or not, Otto? You have to fucking make up your mind.”

“I,” Otto says, and then he falls silent. When Melchior looks at him, Otto’s eyes are clearly flicking between Melchior’s face and the ground. Neither of them say anything.

“... _Do_ you want me to kiss you?” Melchior asks again, softer this time.

Otto scrunches up his face like he’s either going to gag or cry. He’s back to only looking at the ground.

It takes a while, but eventually he says, “I’m not gay.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Otto’s eyes jump up, meeting Melchior’s. He blinks, once, twice. He licks his lips. “Is there a difference? Between the questions, I mean. If I- If I wanted to kiss you, that’d make me gay, right?”

“It’s just kissing, Otto.”

“Really?”

Melchior thinks about the Right Thing To Do. The Right Thing To Do would be to refer Otto to one of the counselors at school so he could talk through his sexuality issues. The Right Thing To Do would be to just tell Otto to think about it more. The Right Thing To Do would be to give Otto a quick lesson on sexuality and romantic attraction in however much time they have less.

Melchior Gabor has never been good at doing the right thing. He kisses Otto instead.

Otto is bad at kissing, which honestly doesn’t surprise Melchior. He tilts his head too much, and he was trying to open Melchior’s mouth right off the bat, and he has _no idea_ what to do with his tongue. The kiss is a slobbery, mostly unpleasant mess overall but Otto still seems breathless when they pull apart.

“That-” Otto starts, before the door knob moves and Otto all but throws himself as far from Melchior as possible. Light spills in from the hall. It’s difficult to pick out on Otto’s darker complexion, but Melchior is pretty sure he’s blushing.

“Time’s up, kids,” The upperclassman says as he ushers them out of the closet. Melchior returns to the game. Otto bolts, going god knows where.

On Monday, Otto waves to Melchior once, almost by accident, and then ignores him for the rest of the day.

* * *

 

II.

Melchior is sixteen years old and he doesn’t _actually_ know the person who’s throwing this party. Bobby Maler’s boyfriend apparently isn’t dying anymore so they’re celebrating, but the party is actually being hosted by a tiny, deaf latina girl whose dad is never home. Melchior has seen her around, taking selfies and pouring drinks and dancing, but he hasn’t actually introduced himself yet. He’s on his way over to talk to her when he trips over someone and spills his disgusting beer all over them.

“ _Shit_ , sorry, I didn’t see you- Oh.” Melchior stops. It’s Otto.

It’s been three months since Melchior has spoken to Otto, mostly because Otto has been avoiding Melchior since Winter Formal. Which is, _whatever_ , Melchior doesn’t care. Otto can blame Melchior for his gay panic if he wants, Melchior knows that it takes two to tango and that he was not the only one who got sloshed and grinded on his sort-of-acquaintance until he came in his pants like an overeager thirteen year old.

Otto awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, frowning. He’s gotten a haircut since the last time Melchior spoke to him, and it makes his face look sharper and draws more attention to his eyes. It looks good. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, you’re covered in beer,” Melchior says, “Do you want me to go get napkins?”

“No, _really_ , it’s fine,” Otto says, clearly looking around for a way out, “Marianna lets me keep shirts in her room.”

“Marianna?”

“Wheelan,” Otto says, then realizing that Melchior is still confused, “This is her house.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Melchior says. He’s glad he knows this because that’ll make it a _lot_ less awkward when he goes to thank her later. Otto uses the moment to begin making his way to, probably, Marianna’s room, and Melchior jogs and weaves through the crowd to catch up with Otto. Otto frowns a bit more but doesn’t say anything. “Is she your girlfriend or something? Do you like, live here? Since her dad’s not home?”

Otto screws up his face, “ _No_ , to all of that. She just let’s me stay in one of her guest rooms when stuff at home is bad.”

Melchior _wants_ to ask _‘Stuff at home gets bad?’_ because he had been operating under the assumption that Otto had the best parent situation out of everyone Melchior knew, but he doesn’t because he has _tact_. _Fucking take that, Thea, I can use social cues_. “She seems nice.”

“Yeah,” Otto smiles for the first time in the conversation. “Marianna’s a nice girl.”

Melchior mentally weighs the pros and cons of asking a question and even though the cons _easily_ outweigh the pros, the pros also include things like _You get to know_ and _Otto will probably blush_. “Do you _want_ her to be your girlfriend?”

Otto, true to form, blushes. His ears are the only place that turn truly red, but his whole face and some of his neck are flushed. “What?”

“It’s a valid question. She’s pretty, model pretty, and you got this _look_ on your face when you were talking about her,” Melchior shrugs. Then, because he’s a dick, he adds, “And it’s not _that_ farfetched to imagine that you might want a girlfriend, I mean, since you’re ‘not gay’ and all.”

Otto stops in his tracks at that, looking wildly around. There’s no one near them except for a few people who are _definitely_ too out of it to be paying attention to their conversation.

“What the fuck,” Otto hisses, wheeling around to glare directly at Melchior. Melchior puts his hands in his pockets casually and meets Otto’s glare blankly. “Is your _problem_?”

“ _I_ don’t have a problem,” Melchior says.

“You _must_! You come in here and you spill beer on me and then you _follow me around_ and- and, _harass me_ about my sexuality, like you always fucking do, so you _must_ have a problem if you think it’s okay to do that.”

“You didn’t seem mind me doing anything at Winter Formal,” Melchior says, and Otto flinches like Melchior just hit him. “Or, at least, your dick didn’t.”

“Would you just _shut up_? It was an accident, a one time thing. I was drunk and horny and you were nothing more than a willing body,” Otto says. If Melchior was paying closer attention, he’d notice that Otto’s voice is edging on hysterical, but he’s too offended by the ‘willing body’ comment to care.

“See, I’d say that once was an accident but when we’re on the _fourth time_ that drunk Otto has made a pass at me, I’d _have_ to argue that it must be something different.”

“I was _drunk_ ,” Otto says-- _pleads_ , really, “I’m not gay.”

“I never said you were,” Melchior says. He holds Otto’s gaze until Otto drops his eyes to the ground, crossing his arms.

“Is there a difference?” Otto mutters. It feels like deja vu. Melchior doesn’t respond. “Just, fuck it. I’m going to go change. Stay here.”

Otto turns to leave but Melchior grabs his arm, “Hey, wait. Are you drunk right now?”

“What?”

“You- We only do, like, _things_ when you’re drunk, right? Only drunk you is interested in me,” Melchior looks at Otto and a part of him _wants so much_ , more than Melchior ever has before and more than he had thought possible. He licks his lips and swallows thickly. “So, are you drunk?”

Otto blinks and then furrows his brows like he expects this whole thing to be a big joke. When it’s clear that no one’s going to pop out and say _‘PSYCH!’_ he looks Melchior over and sighs deeply. “Do I have to be drunk? Can I just… want this and also not be gay?”

“ _Otto_ ,” Melchior starts, but Otto waves him off.

“Whatever, forget that I said that. Yes, I’m drunk,” Otto says. He takes a deep breath and then takes Melchior’s hand. “And I wouldn’t mind you following me upstairs. If you wanted to.”

“Otto,” Melchior starts again, but Otto glares at him.

“I don’t have all night, Gabor. I’ll… ‘ _sober up_ ’ eventually but for now, I’m drunk and I want you and you can decide right now whether or not this is going to happen.”

 _Jesus christ, this is a bad idea_ , Melchior thinks. Melchior Gabor has never been good at making good decisions.

“Yeah, sure, let’s go.”

* * *

 

III.

Melchior is nineteen years old and it’s Otto’s birthday. They’re at Otto’s birthday party and they have maybe ten minutes until people start looking for them, but Melchior has always been good at working on short time.

“Hey now,” Melchior says and shushes Otto softly as he unbuckles Otto’s jeans. They’re in a shed, because _of course_ there’s a shed at the country club that his party is at, and Otto is making those beautiful whimpering noises that he always makes. “You don’t want them to find us too quickly, do you? You don’t want all of our friends to see you like this, completely at my mercy?”

Otto’s cock twitches in interest at that--Which Melchior quite definitely notes, you never know when an exhibition kink might come in handy--but Otto scowls down at Melchior. “Jesus, do you _ever_ stop talking?”

“You seem to find apt ways to shut me up,” Melchior says and then before Otto can respond, he sinks down on Otto’s cock. Otto’s words turn into a breathless groan which becomes muffled noises as Otto stuffs his hand in his mouth. Melchior doesn’t mind the muffling and it's obviously necessary right now, but he just wishes that Otto would let Melchior hear him moan for once. Otto seems like he’d be particularly vocal, if he let himself. Melchior would want to make him scream.

It takes Otto less than five minutes to come, which isn’t a new record for Melchior but it’s something close.

“Wow, someone needs to work on their stamina,” Melchior says, wiping his mouth and popping in a tictac. When Otto doesn’t respond with his usual jibe, Melchior looks at him. Otto is frowning more than usual, his face pinched and his expression shuttered.

“You’re not drunk, right?”

“No?” Melchior shakes his head slightly. Otto’s face is still unreadable. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re- Nevermind, it’s dumb.”

Melchior grabs Otto’s hand and stops him from buckling back up his pants. “Come on, you should know by now that I don’t _really_ think that what you say is dumb.”

It’s supposed to help, to make Otto feel better and make him open up, but Otto jerks his hand away like he’s been burned. “Yeah, well, maybe that’s the problem, Gabor.”

“ _‘Maybe that’s the problem, Gabor’_ ,” Melchior mocks, because it hurts that Otto would really say that _Melchior_ is the problem here and lashing out is how Melchior always responds to pain, “You’re not the protagonist of a fucking teen movie, Otto.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
Melchior scoffs, “Your life’s only complicated because you like it that way. You _like_ that you have all these _issues_ , that’s why you keep having them. That’s why you keep having _me_.”

“I don’t have to deal with this,” Otto snaps. His hands are tight at his sides and, not that Melchior notices, Otto’s shaking like a leaf. Melchior rolls his eyes.

“Of course you don’t. But you will, because what are you if not a _sad little boy_ with a mommy complex and a sexuality crisis?”

“Fuck you, Melchior!” Otto screams without really screaming. For all his anger, Otto still doesn't want to get caught with Melchior, which just makes Melchior more upset. _We’re supposed to be_ friends _, at least_.

“You already did,” Melchior says, far too loud and faux cheerful, “Thanks, dickhead!”

Otto opens his mouth in a snarl but before he can speak, someone’s opening the door.

“Please tell me you guys aren’t fighting in here,” Wendla says, “Otto’s mom would kill us if we let her son get a black eye on his birthday.”

“It’s,” Otto starts, but Melchior cuts him off.

“Don’t worry about it, Wendla,” He says, patting her on the shoulder and making to go past her by, “We’re just _peachy_ ; right, _Lammermeier_?”

Melchior doesn’t need to look back to imagine Otto’s expression. Pinched, frowning, probably rolling his eyes. “Sure, whatever.”

Wendla looks between them and makes a doubtful noise, but Melchior is already leaving. As he goes, he looks over his shoulder one last time, locks eyes with Otto, and says, “My number will be the same as always, when you’re ready to apologize.”

Otto doesn’t reply but Melchior can feel his glare burning into his back for the rest of the night. It’s _whatever_.

* * *

 

IV.

Melchior Gabor is twenty-one years old and he’s missing family movie night. Okay, admittedly, he does prefer being fucked in the ass over sitting with his mother and father and watching horrible Hallmark christmas movies, but Otto has been so _whiny_ lately.

‘Lately’ being relative, because Melchior has only been back from college for four days, but Otto has been clingy and whiny and even more irritable than usual.

Melchior knocks sharply on the Lammermeier’s door and rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet as he waits.

Otto’s mother answers, which is Melchior’s first sign that something’s gone wrong. _Jesus christ_. “Melchior! How nice to see you, do you want to come in?”

“I was just coming by to see Otto but if he’s busy, I’ll just-”

“No, no, I insist!” Mrs. Lammermeier says, all but pulling Melchior in. Inside, Otto is standing at the end of the entrance hall looking horrified.

“ _Melchior_ ,” He says, then “Thank you for answering the door, mother.”

His mother pats Melchior’s head and kisses Otto’s cheek before bustling further into the house. As soon as she’s out of eyeshot, Otto is glaring at Melchior.

“What did I do now?” Melchior asks, “I’m literally _responding to your call_.”

“Do you not check your phone?”

“It died on the way over here.”

“Jesus,” Otto mumbles, “I texted you to call it off because-”

“Otto!” Otto’s mother says, sharp but also soft. “Are you going to bring your friend in to meet Anna?”

“ _Anna_?” Melchior asks, because he’s never heard Otto mention anyone close to an Anna besides Marianna Wheelan. “Who-”

Otto literally puts a hand over Melchior’s mouth. “Make up an excuse. Say that you have to do laundry, that you have to feed your cat--hell, you can tell her that your grandmother is dying, I don’t care; just _make an excuse_.”

Melchior glares at Otto and slowly licks a stripe up Otto’s hand. Otto, as expected, yelps and pulls his hand away. “I don’t like being manhandled and I don’t like being ordered around, Otto.”

“That’s not what you were saying yesterday.”

“You know what? Just for that,” Melchior says, then, “Coming, Mrs. Lammermeier! I can’t wait to meet Anna!”

 _Anna_ turns out to be a small blonde girl in a wheelchair, with a voice high enough to rival Glinda’s and a smile that could light up the city. She also turns out to be Otto’s _girlfriend_.

“Girlfriend!” Melchior says, trying to look less hurt and more shocked. He thought he would at _least_ be _told_. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Otto.”

“Well, it’s new and we don’t talk much while we’re at school, Melchior,” Otto says, doing a wonderful job keeping up that fake as hell polite act. It pisses Melchior off, how easily Otto is able to _pretend_.

“Still, a girlfriend is a _big thing_. If you had told me, we could’ve thrown you a celebration, had Anna meet the whole crew.”

“Yes, well,” Otto says, still smiling but looking like he very much wants to punch Melchior. “There’s still time in break.”

“We’ll have to invite all your little friends over,” Mrs. Lammermeier says. Otto’s eye twitches. Anna looks nervously between everyone. Melchior smirks. Distantly, a timer beeps. “Oh! That’ll be dinner! Are you staying to eat with us, Melchior?”

“No, thank you. I have a load of laundry to do for my cat.”

“For your cat?” She asks, brow furrowed the same way that Otto furrows his.

“She’s dying so we have to get her cat diapers,” Melchior says, holding a straight face. He can _feel_ Otto is silently fuming next to him. “It’s all very tragic.”

Mrs. Lammermeier hums sadly as she leave the living room and Anna makes an appropriately distressed noise. Otto says nothing.

“So,” Melchior says when the silence gets too much, “A girlfriend, _really_?”

“Jesus, if you’d just _charge your phone_ -”

“Or maybe you could _tell me anything_ for once, you can’t _seriously_ expect me ti believe that you’ve acquired a girlfriend since yesterday-”

“It’s not even like I _owe_ you an explanation, you don’t own me-”

“It’s just _common decency_ , you dick, something you obviously don’t have-”

“You just came in here and suggested a _party_ and told my mom you had _laundry_ for your _dying cat_ , you don’t even _have_ a cat-”

“You told me to make an excuse, so I-”

“Enough!” Anna says, her voice surprisingly loud for her small frame. “If Mrs. Lammermeier hears you bickering then it will all be over and _I_ can’t afford that.”  
Melchior blinks at her in confusion. “What?”

Anna rolls closer to Melchior and sticks out a hand. “Anna Müller, I’m using Otto as a beard so my parents don’t disown me for being gay.”

“Oh,” Melchior says, then, “So you’re not-”

“No,” She confirms, “Mrs. Lammermeier got together with my parents and decided to ‘surprise’ Otto and I by letting me visit him during break, it’s _entirely_ not my idea.”

Melchior relaxes a bit. “Nice to meet you, Anna. Sorry it was under these circumstances, you’re still welcome to meet the rest of the gang though; half of us are gay and they’d all understand.”

Anna nods, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, “Thank you. I truly didn’t mean to cause any problems, I didn’t know that Otto had a boyfriend.”

Melchior’s heart stops. His stomach flutters with a feeling that he decides to compartmentalize and ignore until later. Otto chokes on air.

“I’m sorry, _what_?” Otto says, “Melchior isn’t my boyfriend. I’m not gay.”

“Oh. I had just assumed,” Anna starts, and then she shakes her head, “I’m sorry. Ignore me.”

“It’s fine,” Melchior says, probably more bitter than he would like, “I mean, occasional lay, boyfriend, it’s an easy mistake to make.”

“Shut the fuck up, Melchior,” Otto says, rolling his eyes, “Just go home already, you have _cat laundry_ to do.”

“Fine, _whatever_ ,” Melchior says, “Call me when you want an easy fuck, douchebag.”

“I’d have better luck sending a _letter_ , with how you use your phone.”

Melchior doesn’t flip Otto off but it’s a close thing. He settles for being especially charming and nice to Mrs. Lammermeier before he goes so that Otto will have to deal with hearing his mother go on and on about ‘That nice Gabor boy’. Otto’s complained about it before and it would serve him right, after this.

Afterwards, he sits in his car for a moment without turning it on. It’s cold out and everything in his car is freezing but he rests his head on the steering wheel for a bit, to clear it before he drives. Anna had thought they were dating and Melchior… He hadn’t been _disgusted_ with the idea, for sure. If he was being liberal with description, he’d even say that he might’ve enjoyed it, a bit. _Fuck_ , He thinks, _I don’t have time to deal with this_. He shakes himself, starts up his car, and backs out.

If he hurries home he can probably get there before cishet protagonist girl #1076 realizes that she's in love with her boring cishet love interest.

* * *

 

V.

Melchior is twenty-three years old and he wishes he had blackout curtains.

As it is, it’s seven o’clock in the morning and he’s awake because the sun is shining directly into his window. Otto is curled up on by Melchior’s side and sleep makes him looks good. His face smooths out, for once, and it makes him look younger. His eyelashes leave sharp shadows on his cheeks and his normally neat hair is a messy nest. He’s stealing all the blankets, but the sun is hitting his skin and making it glow and Melchior can’t seem to make himself mind.

“‘S it morning?” Otto says, voice slurred with sleep.

Melchior pulls the covers over their heads, though it barely does anything against the summer sun. “No, go back to sleep.”

Otto, despite Melchior’s words, opens his eyes. “Good morning.”

“Morning.”

Otto pushes the blankets from off of them and sits up, grabbing his phone. “Fuck, is that the time? I have to go.”

“Are you serious?” Melchior says, and it sounds more like a whine then he’s comfortable with.

“I have lunch with my mother and then Melitta and I are going to look at apartments.”

Melchior scoffs, “ _Really_?”

Otto turns around from where he had been getting dressed. “What?”

“You’re buying an apartment with her? _Really_?”

“Can we not do this?” Otto asks, “Please?”

“No time like the present!” Melchior says. Otto rolls his eyes and begins to leave Melchior’s room, so Melchior follows him. “What, do you _not_ want to talk about how you’re buying an apartment with your girlfriend? Or is it that you don’t want to talk to _me_ about it? _Gee whiz_ , if you can't talk to the fuckbuddy that you’re using to cheat on your girlfriend, then who can you talk to?”

“We’re _not_ fuckbuddies,” Otto spins around, snarling.

“Okay, because you cheating on your girlfriend with some guy you’re ‘ _not fuckbuddies with_ ’ is _so_ much better, right?”

“ _Fuck off_.”

“And let you just keep doing this? Keep doing things that make you unhappy?”

“You’re not fucking god, Melchior,” Otto says, his fists clenched. “Don’t pretend like you know everything about me.”

“I know enough to know that you’re _not straight_!”

“ _Shut up!_ ” Otto snaps finally. Melchior is glad that he’s finally as angry as Melchior is, in a sick way. “Just shut up, shut up, shut up! You don’t know anything! You’re just a convenient distraction, and I’m in love with Melitta and you don’t mean _anything_ to me.”

Otto has gotten up in Melchior’s face as he’s gone on and Melchior takes a reflexive stumble back. His emotions, his pain and his shock and his anger, must show, because Otto untenses and takes a few steps back.

It’s silent.

“I’m going to propose to Melitta,” Otto says eventually, “This has to stop; _you_ have to stop.”

Melchior laughs, sharp and bitter. “Sorry, I didn’t know I was _tempting_ you so much.”

“Melchior,” Otto starts.

“You’re not straight,” Melchior blurts, helplessly, “You know that, right? You have to.”

“Melchior,” Otto sighs, “ Melitta and I are good together.”

“Are you happy?” Melchior asks. _I could make you happy_ , Melchior doesn’t say.

“I’m glad that Melitta and I are together,” Otto says, after a while.

“But are you _happy_?”

Otto sighs. He puts on his shoes and sighs, “Is there a difference?”

* * *

 

VI.

Melchior is twenty-five years old and he is drinking _way_ too much.

“Don’t you think you should slow down?” Moritz asks, concerned. Melchior waves him off.

“This is a _bachelor party_ , Moritz, don’t be such a _downer_.”

“Yeah but,” Moritz fiddles with the straw from his own drink, “We’ve only been here for an hour and you’ve already had two rum and cokes? And you’re on your third? And you didn’t really eat before we came here.”

“Now, now, Moritz, I’m sure Melchior can make his own decisions,” Hanschen Rilow--Thea and Melitta’s cousin, apparently--throws an arm around Moritz’s shoulder. Moritz looks distinctly uncomfortable but he _always_ looks uncomfortable, so.

“But-”

“Shush. It’s all in the spirit of bachelor parties. Can he truly say that he has the bachelor party experience if he doesn’t get outrageously drunk or do something he regrets or,” Hanschen pauses and leers at Melchior, “Sleep with a near-stranger.”

Hanschen is attractive--smooth dark skin, high cheekbones, a fit physique, and his eyeliner wings are perfect--and Melchior would’ve definitely taken him up on his offer before all this. ‘ _All this_ ’ meaning, of course, Otto.

“Hanschen!” Otto yells, running over towards them. _Think of the devil and he shall appear_ , Melchior thinks. “The strippers are teaching Georg how to pole dance and one of them asked for you!”

“If I am called...” Hanschen says and trails off with a smirk.

 _God, he’s pretty_ , Melchior thinks, _If things weren’t the way they are_ … But things _are_ the way they are, so when Hanschen asks if Melchior would like to join him, Melchior says “No, thanks, I’m going to finish this.”

Hanschen shrugs. “Your loss. Come along, Moritz.”

“What?” Moritz squeaks. Hanschen grabs his arm, “But I don’t know anything about pole dancing!”

“Why do you think I’m bringing you with me?”

As Hanschen and Moritz’s voices fade away, Otto sits down. “You’ve been at the bar all night.”

Melchior scoffs. _Now_ he cares? “Well, _someone_ has to hold it up while you all have fun.”

“You could try to have fun too,” Otto says, as if it’s easy.

“Yeah fucking right, Otto, I’ll just have _fun_ at your bachelor party.”

“Melchior,” Otto starts, but Melchior cuts him off.

“I know, I _know_. You’re not gay, you really do like Melitta, blah blah blah,” Melchior huffs, “Forgive me if it takes me a bit more than a wedding to believe your song and dance.”

“I can’t do this,” Otto says. His eyes are closed tightly, he’s gripping the bar with white knuckles. “You’re drunk.”

Melchior scoffs. “That’s never stopped you before.”

“It’s different now,” Otto says.

“‘ _Is there a difference?’_ ” Melchior mocks, repeating words from years ago, a lifetime ago. Otto frowns. “Ignore me, I’m drunk.”

“Melchior-”

“No, seriously,” Melchior says, looking up and meeting Otto’s eyes. They’re so different from what Melchior remembers. They’re lined with wrinkles now and they’re so much duller than they once were. “I hope you’re happy.”

Otto looks surprised. “I- I _do_ love Melitta.”

 _But are you happy?_  Melchior thinks. The echo of a ghost says,  _Is there a difference?_

Melchior holds Otto’s gaze before nodding somberly. Otto sort of smiles back.

“I’m going to go see if they need any help with the pole dancing,” He says.

He might even take Hanschen up on his offer, if Hanschen’s okay with his partner being emotionally unavailable.

**Author's Note:**

>  **notes!**  
>  \- there are A Lot of missing scenes in here, most clearly all the sex they apparently have but ALSO all the conversations they have after that sex, the soft pillow talk they share before either of them is aware enough to stop it.  
> \- otto loves melitta in a platonic way and he doesnt completely hate sex with her. melitta is aro ace but just assumes that she has a low sex drive and that this is what romantic attraction is supposed to feel like. theyre honestly more qpp then anything but they both _think_ (with the help from Social Heteronormativity) that theyre supposed to be In Love and get married and stuff. neither of them are miserable but they also feel like they mightve Missed Something along the way  
>  \- melchior is more in love with the idea of otto than actual otto, as i think is well shown in the last scene. he isnt just angry that otto is getting married, hes mad that otto isnt who melchior wants him to be. like, clearly melchior has feelings for otto and clearly those feelings are romantic but is he really In Love with otto? thats debatable.  
> \- scene number 5 was the original inspiration for this piece. it was supposed to be soft and angst but it was 3 am and i started listening to my writing playlist--which consists of fall out boy, panic at the disco, twenty one pilots, and my chemical romance--and it got Really Fucking Emo, more angry than sad. scene 3 was the Original angry angst scene and it catapulted the rest of this fic.  
> \- this was originally a fic told in reverse, starting with otto sleeping with melchior even though he was married and going back to the first time they kissed. i flipped it and moved events to better suit My Own Agenda  
> \- alternate fic titles include "we're not good people and we're not good for each other but lets do this anyway", "gay teen angst: the fanfic", "melchior gabor is, shockingly, trying his best, but theyre both horrible to each other and it was doomed from the start", "how to make bad choices regarding talking about your feelings because you grew up in a society full of toxic masculinity", "melchior gabor and the discovery that pretending your emotions don't exist doesn't actually get rid of them", and "how to make bad relationship choices, a guide in six parts by melchior gabor"  
> \- hanschen is emotionally unavailable himself because his long term boyfriend just broke up with him so hes 100% okay with emotionally unavailable partners. melchior and hanschen do sleep together and it eventually turns into Something More and melchior does get to be happy
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoyed; comment, kudos, bookmark, etc; catch me online on [tumblr (liveinlivingcolor)](http://liveinlivingcolor.tumblr.com) or on [twitter (@squidias)](http://twitter.com/squidias)


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